Augmented Reality (AR) is becoming a widespread technology in museums as curators, educators and archivists explore ways to integrate users into their exhibits, create interactive learning environments, and exhibit different types of media in innovative ways. The Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History and the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto developed mobile applications that overlay skin onto dinosaur skeletons when a mobile device is held in front of the bones. The British Museum created an AR scavenger hunt where children collected words and digital objects to solve puzzles when they scanned specific exhibition objects with a mobile device. Mobile applications have been developed by the Museum of London and the Powerhouse Museum in Sydney that allow users to walk around London and Sydney respectively, and when they hold their devices up to certain landmarks, archival photographs will show what that exact location looked like in the past. The Wende Museum has also been an early adopter of AR, integrating moving images into their recent book Beyond the Wall and bringing interactivity into their newest exhibit, Facial Recognition.

Augmented Reality in Beyond the Wall

The Wende Museum began their foray into augmented reality when they partnered with Blippar for the Taschen book Beyond the Wall. Blippar is an AR company that creates technology to bring enhanced content to different fields and spaces. They have created an app that can be downloaded on any smart device for free. Content creators choose an image or an item, take a picture of that item, the enhanced content is added to that image using the company’s software, and the image properties and enhanced content are added to the app. When users hold up their smart device with the app to that item or image, wherever they are in the world, the app will recognize that image, and reveal the enhanced content. The content can be anything from additional images, links to websites, written text, videos, polls, and even a photo booth.

For Beyond the Wall, if readers download the free app at home, they can use it to scan the cover and pages in the book to bring up related content.

By scanning the cover and pages in the book, readers can access audiovisual content.

This application makes many of the items in the Wende’s collection more accessible to people who might not be able to travel all the way to Culver City to see the artifacts in person. It also allows content that cannot be printed in a book due to its original medium, such as videos, to be viewed in conjunction with the other artifacts in the book to create a more complete picture of not only the Museum’s holdings, but also life in the Eastern Bloc during the Cold War.

Augmented Reality in Facial Recognition

The Wende next used Augmented Reality in their exhibit Facial Recognition, currently on display until March 18, 2016.

In conjunction with Leo Selvaggio and URME Surveillance, the Wende is using AR to test facial recognition and open a discourse on surveillance technology in use today. Museum visitors can wear URME’s prosthetic mask, or make a paper mask, and when the Blippar app scans the guest disguised with the mask, it identifies Selvaggio’s faceand brings up biometric information about him as well as content related to the exhibition.

Enhanced content can be accessed by scanning URME’s mask.

This exhibit emphasizes URME’s quest to protect the public from government surveillance, and allows Museum visitors to participate in and learn first-hand what facial recognition technology is capable of, instead of only reading about the implications.

In addition, the Wende has used Blippar to create an interactive guessing game with four different sculptures of Lenin. The Museum’s collection contains approximately 85 Lenin busts, and they are continuing to experiment with the capabilities of Augmented Reality and facial recognition technology to decipher geographic origins and emotional expressions of figurative artworks. This collaborative project will expand to analyze images of Lenin from collections all over the former Eastern Bloc and the Soviet Union.

Each bust is recognized by the Blippar app and visitors have the opportunity to guess from the country of origin for each.

The multiple choice question is posed to guests. Once they have made their choice, they will see the correct answer as well as the percentages of other visitors’ choices.

Each country depicted Lenin in a slightly different way according to its own pictorial tradition. The facial recognition technology allows visitors to look more closely at the artifacts and interact with them in new ways. Most museum patrons would not classify Lenin busts as “fun,” but this interactive game brings interest and enjoyment into an analysis of these artifacts.

In an age where most children–and adults–are glued to their cell phones and tablets, it is a challenge for museums to engage their visitors with traditional methods and older technologies. Augmented Reality has opened up innovative options for creating interactive opportunities for museum visitors, allowed museums to exhibit their content outside of the institution’s walls, and made different types of media, especially moving image content, which is often a challenge to exhibit in a traditional museum setting, available to users. With the exponential growth of this technology over the past few years, museums have been able to create extraordinary exhibits, and as this technology expands into the future, there is no limit to how a museum’s artifacts can be engaged with, displayed, and shared.

Jen O’Leary worked as an AV Intern at the Wende Museum. She is a 2nd year graduate student in UCLA’s Moving Image Archive Studies program focusing on camera and projection technologies’ influences on the restoration and preservation of moving image material.

This past summer I had the incredible opportunity to work at The Wende Museum as a Collections and Curatorial Intern. I assisted the Audiovisual Archivist and Chief Curator on research projects involving the museum’s expansive collection of East German film. These projects elevated my elementary familiarity with museum collections to a comprehensive understanding of archival processes. I learned to inspect and clean 16mm films, digitize and preserve their content, and catalog them to promote greater research accessibility. Structurally organizing aspects of this large archive and concurrently researching the films’ history also raised many questions about their historical significance and collection value, especially regarding the categorization of multifaceted objects. Nonetheless, viewing these objects through the eyes of a collections manager, archivist, and historian encouraged me to uphold their historical significance.

One of my areas of concentration was The Wende Museum’s “Berufe im Bild” (BB) Collection, a hidden gem among many in their vault, consisting of short film documentaries covering various careers in the former German Democratic Republic (GDR), or East Germany. The series was announced at a press conference in Adlershof, Germany in 1976, where it was presented as a catalog in which youth could find a career that matched their interests.[1] The BB films were distributed by Fernsehen der DDR, the state television broadcaster of East Germany, and local Berufsberatungzentren, career guidance offices. Ideally, students were then able to pursue their preferred choice after graduating 10th grade by attending vocational school. Since unemployment did not (legally) exist in the GDR, apprenticeships and vocational schooling were intended to prevent any voids in the work force. About 75% of students would become Facharbeiter, or skilled workers.[2] The Berufsausbildung lasted two years (three years if they chose to continue their education further).[3] These requirements are noted very clearly in nearly every film, along with the individual career descriptions. In other respects, however, the BB films vary considerably in structure and script. This is not surprising given that the series was produced over the course of several years, from 1976 to 1990. Even so, this situation is undeniably telling to the cultural or film historian who interests themselves with the development and content of films. On the other hand, how does one order and categorize objects that share the same background and physical traits but contain a variety of content that individualizes each?

Moreover, though one can understandably associate propaganda with the films on the museum’s shelves, it is difficult to classify them only as state propaganda or to apply any strict label, for that matter. For instance, films including Facharbeiter für chemische Produktion and Diplomchemiker can also act as artifacts and records that document the GDR’s education system, the history and development of film production, and much more. These topics frequently came to mind as I researched and handled the actual objects to inspect and preserve them. Should our interpretation of their historical meaning determine their prioritization in collections today?

Excerpt from Berufe im Bild: Diplomchemiker from The Wende Museum on Vimeo.The career profiled in this film is a chemist with a university degree in contrast to the working class job profiles that make up the majority of the collection.

The BB films represent only one example of the variety of series and individual films that comprise The Wende Museum collection; therefore it should not be surprising to come upon new findings. For instance, when I located a BB film can titled Facharbeiter für Fleischzeugnisse/Fleischer (Skilled Worker in Meat Production), I was surprised to find Die kleine Hexe, The Little Witch. This enchanting animated film based on Otfried Preussler’s fairytale demonstrates a case study that questions how to organize an expanding and eclectic collection. These films are also artifacts that offer a glimpse into the world that is forgotten: the human side that tampered with and handled the objects we now collect as history.

As exciting as the discovery was and valuable for the museum to add a recognized 16mm silhouette animation to their inventory, the archival implications of this discovery were complicated. This was my first encounter with a misplaced and/or mislabeled film, shifting my focus to the materiality of the film cans and studying them as historical artifacts in order to reasonably store them. For starters, should the two items be separated even if they entered the collection together? Does the empty can hold enough historical significance to be cataloged as its own item within the collection and the film cataloged as another? The answer would depend on who is asked. Such questions also exist in other aspects of museum collections, for example print and manuscript rooms. Where would a book be stored if it contains engravings etched by one artist but designed by another, with clippings from various other manuscripts slipped between the pages?[4] The many-layered objects in The Wende Museum collection also pose obstacles to easy classification. Many hands touched this artifact. For this reason, it may become difficult to view Die kleine Hexe and its film can, for instance, as isolated objects. Although physically separating them may be most practical in some circumstances, preserving their history, both intellectual and material, is just as valuable.

Russel worked as a Collections and Curatorial Intern at The Wende Museum through the Getty Multicultural Undergraduate Internship Program. She studies Art History and History at the University of California, Riverside with a concentration in Central Europe.

[4] For more information on the classification of customized early modern books, see Georgia E. Brown, “Cutting, Sticking, and Material Meaning in a Book of Passion Cycle Engravings”, Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies (2015) 45(3): 543-556.

While perusing the museum catalog searching for holiday inspiration, I stumbled upon a beautiful set of Christmas ornaments from the former Soviet Union. But, because open religious practice was often frowned upon, I suppose they aren’t technically Christmas ornaments; holiday decorations sanctioned by the USSR remained secular. Article 58 of the RSFSR Penal Code was put into effect on February 25th, 1927, and it stated that having a Christmas Tree would make the owner sympathetic with capitalism. However, Christmas decorations and ornaments were still in production under a nationalist guise.

These precious hand-painted glass ornaments feature stars with the unmistakable hammer and sickle, cheery little cosmonauts, and what appears to be some sort of spacecraft labeled “CCCP.” Perhaps analogous with the Soviet Space Program’s intergalactic ballistic missile in 1957 or the launch of Sputnik I, these tree decorations show the cultural support and excitement for space exploration.

I admired the shiny decorations all neatly packaged in their archival styrofoam homes, but I also imagined them hanging on the bows of sparse Christmas trees in Soviet homes, in situ. To see for myself, I decked out a tiny Christmas tree with the delicate artifacts, carefully adhering them to the wee branches. The result, as you can see, is a charmingly dwarfed replica of what might have been a Soviet-era Christmas tree. Now it just needs some presents beneath. Wrap up that Stalin action figure with a big red bow and leave out some cookies and milk for Ded Moroz!

Cruise ships are important to The Wende Museum because some argue that one in particular was the locale of the Cold War’s end. George H. W. Bush and Mikhail Gorbachev enjoyed luxurious meals and breath-taking views of the Mediterranean as they discussed the lifting of the Iron Curtain on board the MS Maxim Gorkiy. Many historians point to this, the Malta Summit, as the beginning of the “thaw,” though no official documents were signed.

Aside from MS Maxim Gorkiy’s political significance, taking a cruise was a popular vacation option for those in the East. Even in the face of constant political tension, leisure culture stayed strong in the east and the west. Americans traveled abroad, perhaps to uphold the values of freedom and capitalism.¹ But the GDR and the USSR both placed tough restrictions on travelers. All travel plans of GDR residents had to be monitored through the Reisebüro der DDR, a state travel organization that controlled local hotels and corresponded with travel agencies in foreign countries. Here’s a Socialist-friendly packing list to help you plan for your Cold War-era cruise.

Passport. As an obedient Soviet comrade like this young woman, you had to have your passport on you at all times, even at home in the USSR. If stopped, lacking a passport might lead officials to suspect you were a criminal, an anti-socialist, or a peasant fugitive trying to escape the commune. Nothing ruins a lovely cruise faster than getting thrown in the brig.

Camera. You will want to preserve all of your memories on film. Who knows, someday your photographs might be admired by thousands behind glass in a museum. With its unique East German design, the Pentacon K-16 camera is a great option for your voyage. Lightweight and compact, the Pentacon has a flash that will come handy in the dim lighting of the cabin. Say Käse!

Toiletries. Keep them dry! These colorful plastic soap and toothbrush cases were manufactured by Sonja, a ubiquitous East German plastic manufacturer that still exists today. You will need one for soap and one for your toothbrush so you can smell fresh as you flash your pearly whites. There is no doubt you’ll be doing a lot of smiling.

Hat. Protect your skin from the unforgiving Baltic sun with this stylish baseball cap. Broadcast your support for Kombinat VEB Fahrzeugelektrik, East German electric company extraordinaire, as you bask in the light. It’s crafted to the highest standard from the finest polyester.

Light reading. Brush up on your fussball technique with this handy copy of Die Taktik des Fußballspiels. Just because you’re at sea doesn’t mean you can’t be constantly improving your game. You have to be ready for the ‘76 Summer Olympics.

Luggage. All of these essentials need to go somewhere. This suitcase commemorating the tenth congress of the FDJ in Berlin in 1976 is a perfect fit. It depicts a the eye-catching stylized FDJ logo and a band of colorful stripes that will make you the envy of every socialist on board.

Now you’re set to contemplate the Competing Utopias of capitalism while the crisp ocean breeze blows through your hair. Or you can forget about it all together because this is, after all, a vacation.

Until the end of 2013, a Cold War era siren stood to alert local citizens of nuclear attack at the corner of Sixth Street and Mills Avenue in Claremont, California. Although no longer in use, the siren remained “hidden in plain sight” on the Claremont Colleges campus.

During the recent landscaping renovation of Claremont McKenna College, the siren was removed and transported to a storage yard, where it was left without any clear plans for its future. Attached to a pole measuring 32 feet in length and weighing more than a ton, the only plan for the siren was to have it remain lying on its side out of public view.

Joseph Harper and Kelsey Picken, co-founders of the Cold War: L.A.website, noticed that the siren was missing from its original location and quickly tracked it down. Brian Worley, Facilities Director at Claremont McKenna College, provided the information needed to come up with a proposal to move the siren from the storage yard to a new home at The Wende Museum in Culver City. With the assistance of Professor Joshua Goode, Chair of the History and Museum Studies programs at Claremont Graduate University, the proposal was quickly approved by the college and the city. Coordinating the efforts between CMC, CGU, the City of Claremont, and The Wende Museum, Mr. Worley played an integral part in ensuring the success of the project and overseeing transportation of the siren the 45 miles across Los Angeles County to its new home. The Wende Museum plans to mount the siren in an upright position at their new armory headquarters, which will open in 2015. In the meantime, it currently is stored in the back loading area of the building site where it can be viewed from the street.

The importance of this project for Cold War: L.A., The Wende Museum, the Claremont Colleges, and the siren itself, is tremendous. Collaborations such as these generate opportunities to save, restore, and protect history. According to Dr. Goode, “This project and its entire trajectory represent exactly the kind of research that we aim for in Museum Studies and at CGU more broadly… [T]hrough the initiative of our students, a class project became a partnered project with CGU working with our five College colleagues, the City of Claremont and The Wende Museum to benefit the Los Angeles community writ large. It will serve as a shining example of the work we do in Museum Studies thanks to two very insightful students.” For the creators of ColdWarLA.com, it is their hope that projects such as these will bring more awareness to the everlasting history and artifacts within and around the City of Los Angeles, as well as the state of California.

George Orwell stated in his novel 1984 “He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past.” While it may seem that the immediate past is impossible to revise, most of history is open to interpretation. Most Americans know that Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese on December 7, 1941, but how this attack played out and what prompted it, is constantly reconsidered by historians. Now imagine an event has knowingly been written about to fit a particular historical perspective. Furthermore, multiple alterations and manipulated documents have been used to create a fictional history. This is the problem with Cold War history. There are known historical episodes, such as the Hungarian Revolutions of 1919 and 1956 that received particular interpretations by the Soviets in the late 1950’s. An additional problem is the purging of historical facts and eventual restoration. Nevertheless, these historical revisions recount political opinion at a given time and can assist in dating artwork and artifacts. If a work of art, for example, shows an image of a person who was politically rehabilitated the work must come from a subsequent time period.

The deliberate recreation of history, however, is what drew my attention to two portfolios in The Wende Museum’s collection. The two portfolios deal with the 1956 Hungarian revolution and the history of communism in Hungary respectively. Both demonstrate how this constant revision of history erodes the actual events they depict to create mere fiction in the mind of the viewer. While the portfolio about the 1956 Revolution portrays events that now are known to have never occurred, the portfolio also includes exaggerated depictions of real events. The portfolio of communism in Hungary demonstrates how this changing history becomes problematic when political realities change over time.

The Hungarian Revolution of 1956 changed the way the West viewed Eastern Europe and shaped the way Hungarian history would be viewed. The Hungarian Revolution began on October 23, 1956 with a demonstration in Budapest that led to the takeover of the Communist-run radio station and the destruction of a monumental statue of Stalin. During the following12 days, the Hungarian Communist Government would change leaders–Imre Nagy would take power from Ernő Gerő who was a close ally of Mátyás Rákosi- and attempt to become a neutral country in the growing Cold War. On November 4, Hungarian neutrality would end when Soviet tanks entered Budapest and began to put down the revolution[1]. Even with these verifiable facts, questions of Western involvement and the goals of the revolution still arise. It is thought that the West might have unintentionally encouraged the Hungarian Revolutionaries through Radio Free Europe, which had been calling for the people to rise up and over throw their communist oppressors, but in no way supplied material support besides food. The West had hoped to provide diplomatic assistance through the United Nations but this occurred too late in the revolution[2]. The goals of the revolution varied depending upon which group is being discussed. For longstanding members of the Communist Party who supported the revolution, the goal was to create a Hungarian form of Communism, for some it was removal of all Soviet influence and for others the removal of Communism. It is because of these differences the Communist headquarters in Budapest would be burned and functionaries killed even while the revolution was being supported by some communists. These differences show that the 1956 Revolution was not united in purpose, however the 1956 portfolio ignored these issues and presented the revolution as a unified western anti-communist plot.

In the woodcut titled “Western Assistance” (see Figure 1) a group of men are unpacking boxes that have the German word for canned on the side, but guns are actually being pulled from the crate. Events such as this never happened during the revolution. The Hungarian revolutionaries received a majortity of their weapons from the Hungarian Army, which overwhelmingly sided with the revolution. By showing weapons being received from the West, the revisions absolve the army of supporting the revolution and also show the revolution as a Western conspiracy. By doing this the artist is able to delegitimize those Hungarians who fought in the revolution not as true freedom fighters but as members of the western conspiracy. This print is juxtaposed with other prints in the portfolio of events that did take place. “Avos” (see Figure 2) depicts a man being shot in the street because he was thought to be a member of the secret police. Murders such as this transpired during the revolution. By including an incident that a majority of people knew about gives the revisions an air of reality. Also this image is able to present a unified narrative of the revolution. Instead of unconnected events these incidents prove a Western or Fascist conspiracy. Even the burning of Russian books by Lenin, Marx, Stalin and others from a Russian owned book store on the first day, were not proof of anti-Russian feeling, but rather conclusive proof of a Fascist conspiracy[3].

Through the rewriting of history Hungarian and Soviet Communists hoped to convince the Hungarian public and communists abroad that 1956 was not a popular revolution but a Fascist counter-revolution. In order for 1956 to be a fascist counter-revolution communists needed to show that such an event had occurred before. Revisions had to move beyond the events of 1956 and look back to the beginnings of communism in Hungary. In creating a unified narrative of communist triumph followed by counter re-evaluation, special attention had to be placed on the first Hungarian Communist government of 1919, the Hungarian Soviet Republic, and the “White Terror” that followed its collapse. By linking the 1949 communist government to the 1919 government, the post 1956 government would then be able to link the 1956 revolution to the “White Terror” of 1919 and its results.

One of the problems prior to 1956 in discussing the Hungarian Soviet Republic was its political status. In the 1930’s, members of the Hungarian Communist Party, including Béla Kun who was considered the leader of the Hungarian Soviet Republic, were purged from the communist party by Stalin. Consequently, the Hungarian Soviet Republic was rarely talked about prior to Béla Kun’s political rehabilitation in 1956. Péter Apor points out that “between 1957 and 1962 twenty-four monographs and collective volumes were issued on various aspects of the dictatorship of the proletariat in 1919, in the two years longer period between 1949 and 1956 only eight volumes appeared within the field.[4]” With this renewed interest special importance was placed on 1919 government and its popularity. In “Great Assembly before the parliament on 23 March 1919 on the occasion of the proclamation of the Hungarian Soviet Republic. Béla Kun speaker,” (See Figure 3) a crowd of spectators gathers to see the beginning of the new communist era. This image does not reveal aspects of the Hungarian Soviet Republic. One aspect that is covered up is the reason for the communist’s early success. The communists promised to restore Hungarian lands that had been taken during the peace negotiations at the end of World War I. Thus, support for the communist government arose because of nationalism. By showing the government to be popular, the print narrative helped explain away its collapse after 133 days. The 1919 government fell due to a “Red Terror” that was carried out following an attempted coup. The “Red Terror” attempted to secure the control of the communist government and also remove the leaders of the growing opposition. Another factor in the fall was the Romanian invasion and occupation of Budapest. This collapse caused a power vacuum that allowed partisan groups to carry out a “White Terror.” During the “White Terror” communists and those considered enemies of the people were killed, including large numbers of Jews. During this period, Miklós Horthy became regent and Hungary returned to a parliamentary form of government, putting an end to the “White Terror”. The downfall of the 1919 government because of a “Fascist counter-revolution” became an important connection for the new post-1956 Communist government to make. In order to make this connection, Hungarian communists had to show that the ruling government from 1919 to 1945 was a Fascist dictatorship.

The suggestion that Hungary was dominated by Fascism exaggerated the role of the Hungarian Arrow Cross party, the equivalent to the Nazi party. In “Unity against Fascist Attack” (see Figure 4) Arrow Cross members are shown attacking and being beaten back by members of the Social Democrats, an ally of the Communist Party. The Arrow Cross did take power in Hungary but only in the last six months of Hungarian involvement in World War II. This occurred because Horthy signed a ceasefire with the Soviet Union, which prompted Hitler to replace Horthy. Prior to that the Arrow Cross Party was at odds with the Hungarian Government and the leaders at one point were placed in prison. The re-creation of the Horthy government as a Fascist dictatorship would be used to scare the Hungarian public about the possible consequences had the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 succeeded.

– Daniel Puffpaff, Research Intern

[1] For further reading I would suggest Sebestyen, Victor. Twelve Days: The Story of the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. New York: Random House, 2006 and also Applebaum, Anne. Iron Curtain: The Crushing of Eastern Europe, 1944-1956. New York: Doubleday, 2012.

[2] The collection Foreign Relation of the United States 1955-1957 Volume XXV, Eastern Europe contains several documents that deal with the US response to the Hungarian Revolution.

[3] The book The Truth about Hungary: facts and eyewitness accounts by A Belokon and V Totstikov shows an image of the book burning and has the caption “In Germany, too, fascism began with burning books.”

For the first in an occasional series profiling staff, volunteers, and friends of the Wende, we spent some time with Special Collections Curator John Ahouse.

Perhaps unbeknownst to his colleagues, who revere his deep knowledge of Cold War history, John made his mark with a study of American writer and social reformer Upton Sinclair, assembling a significant collection of some 400 books and related archives and publishing a bibliography. In a major gift to a teaching institution, John has just donated his collection to California State University Dominguez Hills, where it is currently on display.

How did an Upton Sinclair scholar become our resident expert in East German history? John’s relationship to the subject of “die Wende” long predates his association with the Wende Museum. He first traveled to Berlin on a post-graduate fellowship in 1958, three years before the construction of the Berlin Wall. John’s service with the Army Security Agency brought him back to West Berlin as the Cold War intensified in the early 1960s. He worked on audio surveillance of the GDR from Tempelhof Airport, which a dozen years earlier had served as the landing strip for the renowned Berlin Airlift. Civilian work as a translator kept John in Berlin for several more years, after which he returned to the States and earned master’s degrees in linguistics and library science.

With his thirty-year career as a librarian behind him, including stints at Cal State University Long Beach and most recently in rare books and archives at USC, John revisited his early interest in German language and culture when he joined the Wende Museum in 2006. Shortly thereafter, he accompanied museum director Justin Jampol to Berlin, where they conducted historical witness interviews with four people whose lives had been profoundly affected by the Wall. You can view these interviews online wendemuseum.org or at the interactive display monitor in the Wende’s Facing the Wall exhibition. John’s vital participation in this project helped launch the Wende’s growing collection of historical witness interviews, which most recently documented the stories of Soviet Jewish immigrants to Los Angeles.

John has contributed scholarly research on our materials and aspects of East German cultural life for the forthcoming book on the Wende’s East German collection from TASCHEN Books, as well as assembling a reference volume on state-sponsored painting in East Germany, a subject often neglected in art historical scholarship. John also interacts closely with scholars, interns, and foreign students who come to work with the Wende’s collection. We are in the process of establishing an endowment fund in John’s name to support student internships at The Wende Museum.

If you haven’t had a chance to meet John, we urge you to join the fascinating tours he leads on Fridays at 11:30am and 2pm. Tours are free and open to the public.

You can read his biography of Upton Sinclair at the Wende’s library, or purchase it yourself at Amazon.com.